Hollow Branches - Through The Marrow of Mourning

In the hollow where silence breathes, I sit with wounds unspoken, Threads of sorrow stitching skin In patterns torn and broken. Bone-deep tremors in the still, Ashes whispering truths I feared. Grief, a crown of thorns I wear, Its weight has made me seer. I do not flee this haunted dusk— I kneel within its teeth. Let anguish coil around my ribs And teach me how to bleed. Let the rot consume the mask, Let the storm peel back the skin— I will not turn from agony, For healing must begin In order to end No balm, no false deliverance, No savior in the gale— Only the howl of memory’s maw And the cracking of the veil. Pain becomes the altar stone, My breath, the offering spilled. In ruin I plant the sacred seed Of something not yet healed. Let anguish coil around my ribs And teach me how to bleed. Let the rot consume the mask, Let the storm peel back the skin— I will not turn from agony, For healing must begin In order to end In shadows thick with venom grief, I do not beg for peace. I hold the wound and let it speak— And find myself released Let anguish coil around my ribs And teach me how to bleed I will not turn from agony, For healing must begin In order for it to end…